


Several Puns and a Puddle of Blood

by DisposablePaperCup



Category: Danny Phantom
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Apocalypse, Blood and Injury, Comedy, Danny gets his ass kicked, Explicit Language, Family Bonding, Fluff, Gen, Identity Reveal, Laboratories, Near Death Experiences, Post-Apocalypse, Science, War, i dont know what this is but it exists now, idk how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 10:24:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22510378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DisposablePaperCup/pseuds/DisposablePaperCup
Summary: Not any real plot, just wanted some cute fluff stuff cause the Phandom is sorely lacking. More or less just a bunch of short stories and headcanons.Maybe a little angst in there.If you can't tell, the Phandom has once again latched onto me with the force of a symbiote and I have 0 intention of leaving.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 72





	1. Family Outings

**Author's Note:**

> Jack and Maddie decide to help Danny with some ghost fighting.

"BEWARE!" 

"Yeah, yeah, I get it!" Danny let out an annoyed grumble. 

He and the Box Ghost were in the middle of their second fight of the day. Needless to say, the ghost really needed a new catchphrase. Danny casually pulled out his thermos, taking aim at the box ghost. 

"HA! YOU THINK YOU CAN TRAP ME- oh NOOOOO!" The ghost was cut off as Danny flipped the switch. 

The blue light encased the Box Ghost, pulling him in. Danny let out a relieved sigh as he capped the thermos. The sparse few levitating lunchboxes(of Doom) flopped to the ground uselessly. With that, he turned back to the bench where he left his things. Scooping up his bag, he pulled on the familiar cold light inside, moving the white rings away from each other. Danny, now Fenton, unceremoniously shoved the thermos back into his bag. A tinkling chime notified him of a phone call. 

He ran his hand through his hair, dragging his phone out. 

"Hello?" 

"Hey, honey!" His mom's cheerful voice sounded through the speakers, "How are you doing?" 

"Uh, I'm good?" He started walking back to his house. Of all the days the Box Ghost could have chosen, it had to be on a Saturday. 

"Jack and I saw your fight in a live stream - you were great, sweetheart!" Danny blushed slightly at her praise. 

"Well, it was just the Box Ghost, nothing too bad." 

"Oh, I almost forgot, I got a call from Mr.Lancer." Danny braced himself for the news, "You passed your English quiz with a 94 percent!" 

Danny's eyes went wide, "Wow." 

"Right? Anyways, when you get home, the whole family is going out to eat to celebrate!" His mother paused for a second, "You've been doing so much better recently, I'm proud of you." 

Danny felt something warm bubble up in his chest. A soft smile graced his features. As much as he was afraid to admit, his life had gotten _so_ much better since he finally told his family. There was a lot of guilt at first, from all sides, but once they reconciled his parents had started helping him with ghost stuff - mostly tweaking inventions to better suit his needs. But all in all, he was grateful. More than he knew how to express. 

"That's great!" Danny turned the corner, "I'm almost there, see you then." 

"Be safe, sweetie!" With that, his mother hung up. 

Danny sighed contentedly, humming mindlessly as he walked. Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all? 

\--------- 

"So, any big plans tonight?" Jazz asked, chewing another bite of her pancakes. 

Danny shrugged, "Tucker, Sam, and I were gonna head over to the arcade. There's a chance it might be closed though, so if that's a bust we're going over to Tucker's to hang out." 

Maddie sipped her sweet tea, "Well, have fun." 

_His mother said with a smile._

Danny snapped his head up, "What." 

She tilted her head slightly, "I just said to have fun? You kids haven't hung out in a while." 

Danny's eyes widened in realization. He groaned and slammed his head into the table. 

"Danno, you feeling alright?" His father inquired. _He was not - In fact, he felt almost unstable._

Danny sat back up, "We've got a situation." 

_The teen slung on his bag without any hesitation._

He shuffled out of the booth. "I'm dealing with this on my own, aren't I?" Danny grumbled. 

"Not _this_ again." _he half-heartedly mumbled._

"What's going on, Danny?" Maddie inquired. 

"It's Ghost Writer again." _The boy clearly was tired._

"I need to head into the ghost zone to smoke him out as fast as I can." He turned to the door, "Before this gets way out of hand." 

"UGH!" Danny smacked himself, "STOP RHYMING!" 

_He cursed the awful timing._

His family watched Danny stomp out the door. 

"So..." Maddie started, "What was all that for?" 

_His sister sadly looked over at the door._

Jazz let out a heavy sigh. 

"Danny's gotta deal with this Ghost Writer Guy." 

"He drives Danny crazy and it's hard to make him stop." 

"Well," Said Jack, "I'm sure, no matter what, Danny'll come out on top!" 

With that the family returned to their food. _Their spirits somewhat lifted, and all in a good mood._

Meanwhile, outside, Danny looked around. Seeing no one, he opened a portal with a flick of his wrist. 

_He hoped this would only take a few minutes. He stepped inside, clenching his fist._

Once inside the now green environment Danny slipped into ghost form and headed to Ghost Writer's place. 

_He wondered if it wouldn't hurt to pick up the pace._

"UGH! Would you stop that?!" Danny complained. 

_He approached the lair, feeling quite strained._

Getting inside was a cinch - the door was always unlocked. 

_No one would dare threaten Ghost Writer, lest they are blocked!_

"Yeah, keep kidding yourself." Danny muttered. 

_The boy stepped into the dim room, all the windows shuttered._

"Alright, show yourself!" He commanded. 

In a flash, the room lit up, revealing Ghost Writer and Ember standing side by side. 

"HA!" Ghost Writer exclaimed, pointing a finger in Ember's face victoriously, "I win!" 

"Wait, what?" Danny deadpanned. 

Ember groaned, "We had a bet." 

She forked over what appeared to be a glossy black ink pen. Ghost Writer took it, lovingly caressing it against his cheek. 

"Long story short, he wanted something of mine so I bet him he couldn't get you here in less than five minutes." Ember examined her fingernails. 

"And it's only been three." Ghost Writer added, somewhat smugly. 

Danny's eye twitched slightly. Without another word, he turned on his heel and stomped out the door, furiously muttering curses. 

\---------- 

"It's not funny!" Danny crossed his arms, blushing slightly. 

Sam took a break from her uncontrollable cackling to comment, "It- HA! - It rea-" She wheezed "-really is!" 

Tucker held his sides letting out a poorly-restrained fit of laughter. Danny sighed. 

He expected his friends to be just as annoyed as he was about the Ghost Writer situation, but it seemed they were more amused at Danny's embarrassment. The lunch monitor sent a warning glare his direction and he shrugged sheepishly. 

"Okay, you two need to calm it down." He warned, "We're gonna get kicked out of the cafeteria again." 

His friends took a couple of minutes to calm themselves, although they had to restart every time they saw Danny's annoyed expression. When they were finally finished, Sam took the opportunity to ask a long-awaited question. 

"So," She picked at her tofu salad, "How are they taking it?" 

"Who?" Danny bit down on his sandwich. 

She raised a brow, "You know, your parents?" 

"Ah." He set his sandwich down, "Well... I guess they're relieved they don't have to worry about me half as much as they used to. My mom said she thought I'd joined a gang." 

Tucker smirked. 

"They were mostly feeling guilty at first - about everything, y'know? But I think it's getting better." He softly smiled, "Jazz has been a huge help." 

"Good." Tucker jumped in, "You don't deserve her, dude." 

Sam playfully punched Tucker's arm. 

"So, anyway." Danny's eyes lit up with stars, "Have you guys seen the picture of the black hole?" 

Tucker sighed, "Yeah, you've only enthused about it for the past few days, Danny." 

"No, but here's the thing-" His friends let out sighs as Danny launched into yet another space-themed rant. 

In all honestly, they loved seeing their friend so energetic about space again. Ever since the whole 'ghost-hunter' gig, he'd been too tired to focus on the whiteboard, let alone on his hobbies. Sam and Tucker had been trying to get him to think about himself more often, Sam mostly advising him on health habits and Tucker on caring for himself. Once he finally told his family, Danny had once again radiated with optimism like he used to. 

"And then-" Danny paused suddenly as a shudder went through his entire body. 

A tendril of blue mist flickered out of his mouth. He quickly stood. 

"Uh, be right back." His friends shot Danny a reassuring smile. 

After being excused by the lunch monitor Danny slipped out into the empty hallway. 

"Alright, who is it now?" Exasperated, he turned the corner and quickly transformed before pulling open the door to the baseball field. 

"Ah, ghost child." Danny was looking right down the barrel of Skulker's newest rifle. "Right on time." 

\---------- 

Another ear-splitting explosion and the - thankfully empty - school bus was thrown across the field. Danny ducked his head, hiding behind the last in a line of the still-standing busses. There were four busses remaining, and Danny winced when the number was reduced to three. 

"You can't hide from me, ghost child." Skulker charged the weapon again, "Come out." 

Two school busses left. Danny charged an ectoblast, nursing his arm, which had a nasty bruise forming. Another explosion, this one closer. Danny's ears rung slightly as he crouched down and prepared to go intangible. 

"Danny!" The cheerful voice caused him to drop his intangibility and the green energy around his hand dissipated. 

He snapped his head around to see the lumbering figure of his father striding across the parking lot, a strange two-pronged device in his hands. Danny immediately waved his hands wildly, desperately hoping his dad wouldn't alert Skulker. 

Luck, however, was not on his side. 

"Ah, there you are." 

Unthinkingly, Danny dove forwards in an attempt to evade the inevitable blast from skulker's assault rifle. The anticipated explosion sounded behind Danny, showering him with a spray of rubble. He covered his head as the shower ceased and whirled around. 

Skulker rushed Danny, but he sunk into the ground with a touch of intangibility and the opposing ghost's arm-mounted hunting knife jammed into the concrete. Danny resurfaced just next to his dad, eyeing Skulker warily as the ghost recovered from the sudden impact. 

"What are you doing here?!" 

Jack blinked, frowning, "I thought you were supposed to be in class." 

Danny winced, "Yeah?" 

"Oh Jack," His mother confidently strode up to stand by her husband, "Go easy on him, would you?" 

She turned to Danny, "Honey, I know you're still used to dealing with this on your own but you have to start focusing more on school again, alright?" 

"Yeah, but-" Skulker let out an enraged roar, darting at Danny from his position in the rubble, "One sec." 

In a swift movement, Danny turned on his heel, charging up and ectoblast as he did so, and punched Skulker square in the jaw. The ghost went flying back and Danny turned to his parents again. 

"I've been getting better," He rubbed the back of his neck, "It doesn't take as long to take down ghosts now." 

Maddie sighed, "I know honey, but I just want you to know that we can start taking care of ghosts for you now. You don't have to do this on your own anymore." 

Danny's shoulders slumped. His mother noticed this, "I'm not saying you can't fight ghosts, but it's seriously messing with your schedule." 

She casually slung a huge gun off her back and shot a net just over Danny's shoulder, pinning the extremely annoyed Skulker to the asphalt. Danny didn't flinch. 

"Yeah, but I can take care of Skulker on my own - he's easy." A muffled 'hey!' sounded from the ghost. 

"Did you remember to bring a thermos?" 

Danny blushed, "Oh." Maddie pulled one out of seemingly nowhere and handed it to him, "Take care of the ghost and get right back to class, okay, young man?" 

"Yes, ma'am." Danny grumbled. 

As he stalked off to capture Skulker, Maddie pursed her lips, "Do you think we're being too hard on him, jack?" 

Her husband put a massive hand on her shoulder, "We just need to be supportive, Mads." 

She sighed, "You're right." 

A few shouted curses at Danny and a bright blue flash of light later, Skulker was sulking inside the Fenton Thermos. Danny returned to his parents and tossed it back to his Dad. 

"Okay," He casually transformed - raven black hair replacing what was previously snow white - and checked his watch, "I've got about ten minutes left in lunch so I've gotta hurry back to Sam and Tucker. Can you make sure Skulker gets back to the ghost zone?" 

"Of course, sweetie." Maddie pulled off the hood of her hazmat suit and gave him a gentle kiss on the head, "Study hard!" 

He chuckled lightly, "I will. Bye!" 

With that, Danny dashed off and shoved open the doors to the cafeteria. 

Jack sighed warmly, "That's our Danny. We ought to get going now, Mads." 

She smiled, "Alright, let's head back to the RV then." 

The Fenton Family Recreational Vehicle was built more like a tank than an RV but worked for both functions. Maddie strapped into the driver's side seat and Jack shimmied into the passenger seat. The Fenton parents pulled out of the school parking lot and headed back home. Maddie was mostly occupied with the worry that Danny wouldn't jump at the chance to fight every ghost who dared threaten Amity Park and put a little more effort in his math homework. 

Unfortunately, Danny had worse ideas in mind. 

\---------- 

"Hey guys," Danny peeped up from his position lying upside-down on Sam's couch, "I should totally start a twitter." 

Tucker didn't look up from his laptop, "You already _have_ a twitter." 

"No, I mean," Danny put another chip in his mouth, "For Phantom." 

Sam looked up from painting her nails, nearly spilling shimmery black nail polish on her carpet, "Dude, that's a terrible idea." 

Tucker quirked a brow, "Are you sure? You might let it slip." 

Danny flipped onto his stomach, legs hanging off the back of the couch, "Eh, what's a couple of tweets gonna cause?"

His friends didn't seem to have a valid argument after that - they mostly wanted to see the sweet, sweet chaos the whole thing would cause. So, begrudgingly, Tucker let Danny use his laptop to set up the account. 

Although he worked in silence, every now and then Danny would let out a giggle or short chuckle of laughter and Sam and Tucker would exchange a worried glance. Sam finished up her nails by the time Danny was finished and decided he needed a decent profile picture. 

"So," Phantom's eerily ethereal voice began, "What should the picture be?" 

Sam thought for a moment, "It needs to be something unique, otherwise you'll be considered a fake right away - there're tons of pictures of you out there." 

"True." Danny shrugged. 

Tucker thought for a moment, "Oh, I got it!" In a swift movement, he unzipped his bag and pulled out a pair of sunglasses, interestingly shaped like stars. 

Danny took them eagerly, "Nice!" 

A quick photoshoot later Danny had about a dozen more photos than he needed. Sam picked out the best one. 

"Okay, I think we're all set up," Danny - Fenton, this time - had repositioned himself on the couch. 

The 'optimal position' he called it; he could reach the chip bowl and his soda without having to move. Although this meant he was awkwardly sprawled along the length of the sofa. 

All that was left was to send his first tweet. 

The trio debated for hours about what Phantom's _official_ twitter account should post first, mainly because, as Sam put it, 'first impressions are important'. Danny wanted something borderline shitpost-y, while Tucker thought it needed to be formal. Sam didn't really care either way, as long as Danny was careful. 

Eventually Danny sighed and tapped away at the keyboard, hitting the 'post' button with a wide grin. 

"Wait, what did you send?" Tucker leaned over, unable to see the screen. 

Danny let out a mischievous laugh, which, combined with the slight echo of his voice, bordered on creepy. Sam shuddered. Danny finally sat back up - normally, this time - on the couch and Sam and Tucker shuffled in with him. 

Sam gasped before smiling madly, "Dude, that's _exactly_ the kind of thing you need." 

Tucker nodded approvingly, "As one self-proclaimed 'mad lad' to another: _dope_." 

Danny leaned back, satisfied, "All I can hope now is that it drives Wes crazy." 

The three formally shook hands and resumed their hanging-out session. Danny thoughtlessly tossed his phone into his bag and Sam flicked on an old-school horror movie. If it wasn't for the cheesy old-style movie sound effects, Danny might just have noticed his phone buzzing with reckless abandon. Like after like on his twitter post and more coming. 

It wouldn't be until the next day Phantom's twitter would hit over a hundred followers.


	2. That Chemical Smell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two-shot post-apocalypse fic I got the inspiration for after being forced to watch Avatar(the blue kind) with my family.
> 
> It was actually a pretty dope movie and then immediately after I started writing this.

The containment rooms were always _suffocatingly_ small. 

Danny shivered just envisioning it. 

The walls were always completely void of distractions - not even a seam or change in the dark gray color to create a semblance of decor. There was a single stainless steel bench, painted with the same hue as the walls. The only door had no windows, only a small port for food at the very bottom. 

The worst feature was the light. 

It always pulsed a soft, barely visible red. The room nearly pitch black as a result - the doctors said it was because ‘bright lights startle the patients’. As dim as it was the color never failed to bathe the walls in an unhealthy light, outlining every dull, featureless nook and cranny. 

Danny hated the containment rooms. 

He had only ever seen the inside once before, during orientation, and decided never to look inside if he could again. 

He passed the row of doors, grimacing at the shrieks and bangs of the people kept inside, driven mad by a sickness the doctors couldn’t hope to cure. They would claw their hands bloody against the walls, too dangerous to come near and too downright _rabid_ to reason with. 

The entire facility _knew_ it would be guaranteed lockup in one of the containment units if you got infected by whatever was driving the soldiers to insanity. 

Danny flinched at a particularly loud shout to his left, followed by a series of slams and the resonating _clang_ of metal. An attendant came up to the door, clacking away at a panel to the side of the handle. A _hiss_ sounded from inside the unit as a calming gas was released. 

The screams were slowly silenced. 

“Mr.Fenton?” 

Danny’s head snapped up to the doctor escorting him, not realizing he’d been standing in place. 

“Sorry, uh,” He carefully unclenched his fists, letting the tension leak out of him, “Coming.” 

The doctor nodded - Dr. White? Danny couldn’t remember - her shoes clacking off down the hall, echoing in the expanse of silence. 

They finally left that god-forsaken hall of tortured screams - it was apparently the quickest way to their destination - turning down a hallway as white as the one before it. 

Today was the ‘big day.’ Danny internally scoffed. He hated that term - ‘big day’. It made it seem like it was something to be celebrated. No - today he’d been given the rare opportunity to become the one-in-a-million lab rat of the military’s head scientific research lab. 

_“I’m so happy for you, sweetie!”_ His mother had praised, _“That’s my boy! A true Fenton man!”_ His dad had cheered. It was ironic, really. They thought he was just getting a simple promotion. They were _proud of him_ for it. And if something went wrong they'd never know the truth. 

He hated the way the knot of dread in the pit of his stomach _writhed_ \- like a snake with no head. Still alive, but forced to painfully endure death. 

It was sourced from his deeply inset fear of the things that could go wrong. 

_Horribly_ wrong in this case. 

_“Your genes contain a strain of dna so uncommon we’ve only seen it on one other occasion,”_ The doctors had carefully explained, _“This gives us an opportunity so rare it would be an understatement to call it that.”_

Who was he to say no to that? 

So that’s why he was here. Standing in front of a clean white door with a doctor he barely knew as he was readying himself to possibly die in the name of science. 

_Science. What a joke_, Danny ruefully lamented, _All they really need is a stronger soldier._

The war had been going on for over two decades, with the militaries of the world begrudgingly working together for the sake of survival. This was beyond basic warfare - it made the civil war look like a petty squabble. 

Because their enemies were _monsters._

That was the best way to describe them. The scientists called them ‘ectoplasmic-based entities’. The soldiers called them ‘ghosts’. 

They were immortal, impossibly powerful, and _innumerable._ Every soldier who'd been out on the front lines for long enough _knew that_. Some were gifted the rare occasion of fighting one of their deceased allies. Well, not _allies_. Not anymore. 

That’s why they needed to step up their game, and that’s where Danny came in. 

“Right this way.” The doctor announced, finally clicking in the last - of _five_ \- security measures, a 13-digit access code. 

Needless to say, the project was under tight wraps. 

The door slid open with a pneumatic _hiss_ of air, revealing a blue-lit lab setting. At the far wall, directly in front of the door, was a huge, octagonal port of sorts, with a table set up to be slid inside. 

He swallowed nervously, a prickle of sweat dripping off his brow. 

There were over a dozen of other doctors there, each wearing a pristine white lab coat. As Danny stepped through the doorway he could see the room was circular in design, centered around the machine on the far wall. The lights embedded in the ceiling let off a dim blue glow, presumably running off their own small generator because of the high amount of energy the procedure would require. 

Danny inwardly smirked at that conclusion, considering he’d never been one for the scientific side of things. 

"Are you ready for the procedure, Mr.Fenton?" 

Danny snapped out of his thoughts, seeing one of the other doctors - a darker skinned man, who looked to be the most calm of everyone there - was standing in front of him, clipboard ready. 

“Um, yeah.” He took care not to let his voice waver. 

The doctor nodded, raising one arm to offer a packet of sorts, “Please put this on. There’s a small bathroom for you to change in over there.” 

Danny nodded, tracing the trajectory of the doctor’s outstretched finger to see a small door on the other side of the room. 

As soon as he was inside he let out a relieved breath. He’d always hated being in the lab spaces - sharp objects of countless designs, not nearly well-lit enough to see into every corner, the all-encompassing acidic smell of chemicals. 

He _hated_ it. 

But he couldn’t afford to take his sweet time hiding away from it all. 

It was easy enough pulling off his scratchy military-issued tee shirt and cargo pants, but he found the rubber suit offered to him to be much more finicky. 

He finally pulled up the zipper and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

“Mr.Fenton?” A doctor called, muffled by the door. 

“Sorry-” He pulled open the door, greeted by the doctor who escorted him there, “-suits just a bit tight.” 

She nodded, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, “It’s meant to protect your body from any excess radiation during the procedure.” 

A shiver like a blade being dragged along his spine ran down Danny’s back and he barely managed to nod in understanding - he _definitely_ did not like the sound of that. 

He breathed raggedly, only to immediately have his nose assaulted by the sharp, burning smell of chemicals. Danny stiffened, realizing the scent was coming from the needle and syringe one of the doctors was preparing by the bed. 

“Take a seat, please.” The first doctor ordered, gesturing to the white examination bed. 

Danny nodded and shuffled over, sliding onto the bed with little effort. The doctor finished mixing whatever was burning his nostrils and finally clicked a short needle onto a syringe. Danny watched with a mixture of fascination and apprehension as the chemicals danced and bubbled, turning from a sickly yellow-brown to bright, pulsating green. 

“Your arm?” The third doctor asked, holding the needle in one hand and gesturing for Danny’s arm with the other. 

He nervously tugged the rubbery black glove off and rolled up the sleeve, instinctively tensing when the doctor poised the needle over his skin. 

One thing was certain - whatever they’d injected into his system wasn't penicillin. It burned briefly and _fiercely_, like getting branded by a hot iron, and Danny choked back a cry before everything turned over and started spinning. The floor kept tilting as his veins were filled with ice water so cold it _burnt rivets_ into his skin. 

One of the doctors - he couldn’t hope to recognize which - steadied him while another started snapping their fingers in front of his eyes. 

On the fourth snap everything was right again. 

“Mr.Fenton? Can you hear me?” The doctor asked, pausing the snapping of his fingers. 

“Um,” Danny swallowed hard, releasing the odd pressure in his ears, “Y-yeah. I can hear you.” 

“The ectoplasm dosage was administered effectively,” The doctor with the needle reported. Danny noticed their - strangely warm - fingers were pressed against the pulse point on his cold, clammy wrist, "No side effects." She finished. 

He subconsciously searched for a burn on his arm to find nothing. The only thing that seemed _off_ was how distant everything was. Like there was a delay to every movement he made. 

The doctor who escorted Danny carefully pulled out a small device and pressed it against his finger, muttering under her breath as the others buzzed about like ants, dutifully committed to their tasks. 

He watched as the doctors - more like scientists now that he thought about it - worked in sync, pulling odd glowing green tubes out of the large octagonal machine in various places, examining them and scribbling something down on their clipboards before sliding them back in and moving on to the next one. The doctor who stayed with him was putting a small vial of what looked like a few drops of _blood_ into a machine, examining the screens that lit up with a keen eye. 

Danny took a second to notice that the blood had come from his finger, which had a tiny, barely-visible smear on the side. His hand felt numb. Scratch that - his _body_ felt numb, and every slight movement he made sent pins and needles crawling along his skin. 

There were a dozen doctors at that point, buzzing about - clacking away at computer terminals, preparing chemical samples, scribbling things down on a clipboard or, as one was doing at that moment, shining a flashlight into his eyes. Danny blinked away the harsh light as the doctor left, calling something his water-logged ears couldn't hope to hear. 

The first doctor came back as an array of screens lit up from out of nowhere and replaced Danny's glove, carefully leaning him back to lie down, feet facing the machine. 

“We’re going to restrain your limbs for safety,” She reported, and another blurred-around-the-edges doctor appeared on the other side of the bed. Danny’s brow furrowed as he registered a clicking sound, presumably as the restraints were activated. 

She came by with a rubbery grey mouthpiece, which Danny took securely in his teeth. 

“Are you ready?” The first doctor asked, more out of preparation than real concern, which Danny found slightly insulting. 

It seemed so petty considering the circumstances. 

Still, he nodded in reply. The doctor retreated, leaving him to stare at the single, round blue light above him on the ceiling. 

“Priming energy cells,” One of the doctors reported, and a gentle humming _whirr_ filled the expanse of silence. 

Danny craned his head, trying to see, only to find they’d restrained his forehead as well. He felt like he should have noticed that earlier. 

“Genetic sample locked in,” Another doctor called, “Syncing with energy cells.” 

The hum was slowly overlapped by a deep, spiraling _vrrrrr_ that overshadowed the beeping and clicks of the doctors typing away at their computers. 

The second doctor came by again, placing something over his nose and mouth. Danny recognized it as an oxygen mask at the thin hiss of air. The doctor leaned forward, having to nearly shout over the rumbling of the machinery, “We’re sending you in now, alright? Just stay calm. The procedure won’t take long.” 

Danny just stared at him, wide-eyed. It took a second before he remembered to nod. Then the doctor left again, leaving Danny to nervously sit and wait. 

Then the ceiling started moving. No - the bed was shifting forward. Before he knew it the reassuring blue light was replaced by cold, silvery metal. 

-And a harsh green glow near his feet. 

There was a huge, pneumatic _clang_ and what sounded like locks being put in place. 

“Activating in three-” The muffled voice of a scientist shouted over the roar of the machine. 

Danny started hyperventilating. 

“Two-” 

Yes, they’d told him what to expect but nothing could have prepared him for _this._

“One-” 

All in all, he was really hating the fact he was finally chosen for something important, and this is what it was - lab rat duty. 

“Activating.” 

That was his last thought before there was a harsh _clack_ \- and everything was _green._

At first, it was so overwhelming all Danny could do was stare. Then, like flipping a lightswitch, his cells were set on _fire._

A strangled noise escaped him, choked out by the sheer degree of _pain_ that caused every muscle to tense and every heartbeat to ring in his ears. He surely would have bitten off his tongue without the mouthpiece secured between his gritted teeth. 

The energy rushed past him with the speed of a jet engine, sending his hair on end as his nails dug into the palms of his hands, the rubber squealing in protest. 

And he- 

-couldn’t- 

_-breathe._

Every choking heave brought no air into his lungs. He couldn’t be sure there _was_ any air. The mask on his face was as useless as his now-broken body. He convulsed painfully with the sheer amount of electricity _pulsing_ through his veins. 

He was forced to stare upward into the unending green void. Then, something started to appear, barely there. 

A pair of glowing green eyes stared at him, _brighter_ and _fiercer_ than the streaking energy around him. They were wrenched open with _agonizing pain._

Danny’s own eyes started rolling back into his head. 

Finally, _mercifully-_

-everything went _white._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hopefully, part 2 of this and Family Outings will be out soon - part 2 of this at the end of the week if I can. 
> 
> Shit's been hectic so I hope y'all are doing good out there!


	3. Insomniac

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny has trouble sleeping.

Danny had trouble sleeping - or, rather, he had no time to sleep. His excuses always ranged from ‘ghost patrol’ to ‘parents inventing at 1 am’ and then some. So, sleep wasn’t usually easy to come by. He made up for it by sleeping in class, intentionally or not.

  
At least, that’s what he told his friends.

He didn’t -  _ couldn’t _ \- tell them the truth. Danny was well aware of how they treated _ his  _ problems like  _ their _ problems. And if he told them about the nightmares, well… it was just better he kept it to himself.

It was always the same thing.  _ Always  _ the same reenactment of  _ that _ night. Word for word, detail by detail. It was  _ terrifyingly  _ accurate. 

Sam and Tucker would come over to hang out, their faces scarily exempted from the usual blurriness that came with specifics in dreams. They’d flick on a random horror movie. Danny would zone out after the second axe-murder scene. The trio would start talking again, discussing just about anything.

Then Danny would casually mention the portal.

He’d shudder in his sleep, subconsciously dreading what he  _ knew _ would happen. 

Sam would pause, an excited gleam in her eyes. She’d asked to see it dozens of times before, of course, but Danny didn’t relent. He steeled himself to deny her request again.

But he didn’t.

_ God _ , why didn’t he?

_ One photo _ , he promised,  _ and not a word of this to my parents. _ And they’d agree, of course - just like best friends are supposed to. Then he’d put on the suit. It still miraculously fit after way too many years at the bottom of his closet and he’d curse that fact later. 

_ One photo _ , Sam would say, _ Go stand in the portal?  _ Danny wanted to say no, but he’d never seen Sam so  _ excited _ about something like she was just then. He wanted to impress her.

One photo. 

That’s all it was supposed to be.

Then he would nearly fall through the bed when he woke up, the horrifying tingling of  _ nothing _ under his fingertips still lingering. The sudden lurching sensation of non-existence before he painfully _existed_ again. He would take a few seconds to breathe, to remind himself he  _ wasn’t in the portal _ \- he was  _ here. _

He always seemed to have a few hours to lay in silence before his alarm went off.

“Danny, you look like shit. Did you sleep at  _ all _ last night?” Sam would say.

And he’d reply, “I  _ wish. _ Skulker kept me busy until my alarm rang.”

Sam would scold him for that, Tucker would shrug, and Danny... 

Well, he just had to remember to switch up his excuse every now and then.

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I would just like to apologize ahead of time - I don't know anything about Twitter because I don't have one.
> 
> Also, rhyming in writing is like, surprisingly hard.
> 
> Like, _damn._
> 
> Anyways, this is just a place to collect my random DP shorts so yeah. Enjoy my shitposts!


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